My Immortal
by Theopholos Whenntooda
Summary: Dick was the only one who could get Jason to sing.


Another one-shot!

It's related to Lost In Paradise, but I've changed Dick's death. Also, thanks to everyone who told me the name of the fic that inspired me. All The Roofs Of Uncertainty. Check it out!

* * *

**My Immortal**

* * *

Rain lashed down as the respective members of the Bat Family came to mourn the passing of Richard Grayson.

Due to his last request as outlined in his will, they were not dressed in their alter ego costumes. All of them wore dark funeral clothing, and they shared a few umbrellas between them.

Barbara Gordon was sobbing quietly, the tears streaming down her face. Bruce Wayne stood next to her, his hands clasped in front of him, his face set and blank. Damian stood in front, a mixture of grief and disbelief on his face, as if he still couldn't come to grips with the fact that his oldest brother was dead. Tim Drake and Alfred Pennyworth were also present, standing stock still, staring at the coffin before them.

Only Jason Todd stood alone, set apart from the group. The rain flattened his hair, and it kept going in his eyes, but he didn't blink. He wouldn't blink. It was an act of defiance, as if he wouldn't be yanked around by a God who took his brother away from him.

Except it hadn't been God. It had been Nightwing, trying to protect Jason from the murderous Joker gang. Armed with crow-bars, they had attacked them, and when Jason let his guard down, Dick sprang in front of the blow to save him.

That had marked the beginning of the end. He suffered too much, getting hit more, dying that much quicker. Jason was doing his utmost to keep them both alive, but then he himself had been knocked out. He regained consciousness long enough to hear Dick's last words, and to sing a song for him.

The priest was saying words, performing the necessary service required for the loss of a loved one. His part would soon be over.

He took a step back, and Jason and Tim walked forward, reaching for the ropes to lower Dick into the ground. It was a silent agreement, a final tribute they shared.

As they lowered him, Damian placed a hand on the top of the coffin. Barbara did the same, and so did Alfred. Only Bruce stood apart, his head bowed, his eyes closed.

The priest scattered the dust, now mud in the rain, over the top. Jason and Tim grabbed a pair of shovels, and began to pile the wet earth over the coffin.

No words were spoken. None were necessary. But as Jason dug, his numb grief gave birth to a strange thought in his mind. Not a thought… a memory. A memory of a song.

_No. No. Don't think of that song. Don't think of that song. Don't… dammit. Why did you introduce me to Evanescence? You bastard._

The rest of the family were leaving, ushered by Alfred back up to the Manor. As the final piece of dirt covered Dick's grave, Tim and Jason shared a look. Tim lowered his head, turning to go back to the house, his black suit spattered with mud.

Jason was clad in his Red Hood uniform, contrary to Dick's last request. His leather jacket was worn and frayed, but he still wore it. He needed to find a replacement.

He stood there, shovel in hand, staring down at Dick's grave. The headstone read _DICK GRAYSON: BROTHER, SON, FRIEND._

_ How about redemption? How about hope? All those things… the things that made him? Goddammit… why did it have to be you?_

Now the song forced its way to the forefront of his mind. Jason swallowed, taking a deep breath.

"Come on," he said aloud, his voice shaking. "I'm not going to sing again. I don't care what you want."

The grave was silent, but Jason could see his brother's face in his mind's eye, cheerful and smiling. He was giving him an uplifted eyebrow, as if saying he knew. He would always know, from the time Jason was a young boy, to the time of his death.

"Don't give me that look," Jason snapped. "You were the one who had to get all heroic on us. Don't… dammit. I'm not… I…"

He shut his eyes tight, rubbing his face with his hand. He was determined not to shed any more tears, not to display his sorrow in front of the other members of the family.

_Family? They wouldn't give me so much as the time of day… if it weren't for you. You believed in me. Why?_

"Screw it," Jason mumbled, clearing his throat. "You were the only one who got me to sing. Then again, you were the only one who knew I could." He took a deep breath.

* * *

**_"All of me."_**

"Dang, Jason," Dick said as the song on the CD came to an end. Jason jumped, almost swerving the car and killing the both of them in the process.

"Holy… I thought you were asleep!" Jason said loudly, rubbing his eyes. They had been driving in his Impala for a long time now, making their way back from Florida to Gotham in Jason's car. It was 1:00 in the morning, and Dick was sleeping in the passenger seat while Jason was listening to Fallen, the CD Dick had given him many years ago as a joke, quietly singing along to the songs.

"I was," Dick yawned. "Then this song came up. I love this song, I ain't gonna sleep through it."

"Dammit, Grayson," Jason growled. "I hate this CD."

"Sure you do," Dick teased. "That's why you sang along to the song." His smile faded. "Seriously… that was really good. You've got a great voice."

"Like hell I do," Jason argued. "Remember the _Midnight RV_? The karaoke bar after too many pina coladas?" Dick laughed.

"I was singing," he reminded Jason. "I was terrible. Can't carry a tune to save my life. But you… you sang Lost In Paradise, and it sounded really good!"

"It sucked," Jason moaned. "And you swore never to mention that."

"And I never will," Dick said, crossing his heart. "To anyone. Doesn't mean I can't enjoy it. So go on." He clicked through the stereo, returning to TRACK FOUR. "You should title these… okay, go ahead."

Jason moaned, but became silent as the opening bars started. He wasn't going to sing. He planned not to. But when the vocals started, he couldn't help humming along.

"Come on," Dick encouraged him. Jason waited until the chorus, and then couldn't help himself.

_"Time cannot erase,"_ he rumbled in his baritone, before clearing his throat and singing a little louder.

_"When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears."_

_ "When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears."_

_ "And I held your hand through all of these years."_

* * *

_ **"But you still have… all of me."**_

As Jason reached the last word, the tears finally overtook him, and he stopped, his chest heaving, his throat caught in his sobs.

"Why… why… why did it have to be you?!" he screamed through his crying. He sank to his knees. "I'm not worth it! I'M NOT WORTH IT!"

He hugged himself, his arms tightly covering his chest, and he shuddered as the sobs racked his body. The cold, grey marble of the headstone watched him impassively, as if it were a watchful guardian of his brother, unimpressed with his display of grief.

"WHY!?" Jason bellowed to the sky, throwing his arms out, his hands clenched into fists. They fell, loose and limp, as the anger and self-loathing left him, leaving him feeling drained.

A hand touched his shoulder. For a brief instant, he thought it was Dick, coming to comfort him, to reassure him that all was well, that everything was all right. But as Jason turned and recognized the person through his hazy vision, he remembered the only other person who ever showed faith in him, who believed in his redemption.

"Come up to the house, Master Jason," Alfred said, grabbing his arm with his other hand, lifting him to his feet. "I do believe your view of worthlessness was not shared by Master Dick. That is why… why you are here now, sir."

He smiled, but his eyes betrayed the deep hurt he himself was suffering. He held his arms out, and Jason embraced him tightly, burying his face in the older man's shoulder, releasing the feelings that he had held inside so deeply.

When they finally were walking up to the house, the rain was letting up. The clouds began to part somewhat.

"Sir, if I may," Alfred said as they neared the door to the kitchen. "I overheard your… final lullaby to Master Dick. You have a very beautiful voice, sir."

"Thanks, Alfred," Jason said, his voice raspy. "I'm gonna have to swear to you the same oath I forced Dick to take."

"Naturally, sir," Alfred replied. "What was that song called, if I may ask?"

Jason turned back to face the graveyard where Thomas and Martha Wayne, and now Dick Grayson, were buried. The sun was shining weakly through the clouds, the bright rays of which shone directly over Dick's grave, illuminating the headstone.

"My Immortal," he answered, feeling a new determination to live life spring from deep in his heart. "His favorite song on the CD. Mine, too."

They turned around, and walked into the house.

* * *

_When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears._

_When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears._

_And I held your hand through all of these years._

_But you still have_

_All of me._

* * *

Thank you, and good night.


End file.
